


Don't Trust the Space-Kama Sutra

by poprocks



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fail sex, bad positions lead to a bad time guys, depends on your point of view, or a hilarious time, this is just absurd and useless and i just wanted them giggling over ridiculous shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 10:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11644929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poprocks/pseuds/poprocks
Summary: Peter and Gamora try a new, completely ridiculous position, and it goes about as well as you might expect.





	Don't Trust the Space-Kama Sutra

**Author's Note:**

> There is literally nothing of value here except these dummies being ridiculous. Gamora loves this idiot even when things don't pan out and everything is laughter and absurdity whompwhomp. Also it's 3am what am I even doing.

“Okay, so maybe, like, move your leg ove—“

“Here?”

“No, it’s more— yeah, kinda like that. No, wait, that’s not—“

“This is getting uncomfortable.”

“I swear, this is supposed to be awesome. Just shift, like, yeah— _whoa_. What the _fuck_ , how do you bend like that?”

“Am I _not_ supposed to move like this?”

“I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be kind of half over here and half over there. Like, your hip is supposed to go up like— yeah, like that.”

“And you want me to stay in exactly this position.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s great. And now I can— _ohfuck!_ ”

With a sudden yelp, Peter’s heel slides _right_ off of the edge of the bed. Completely unintentionally (because he’s pretty sure if he did it on purpose, Gamora might actually break his nose for it), his hands clamp down around Gamora’s hips, and in the same wild, flailing motion, they both go tumbling backwards.

Peter’s shoulders hit the floor first with a loud _smack_ , closely followed by the tangle of gumby-like limbs that is totally Gamora. (But, seriously, how is she so freaking _bendy?_ Who said that was allowed?) Though she’s not overly heavy, the sudden weight of her knocks the wind out of him as he reflexively wraps his arms around her – like that might keep her off the ground. Where they already happen to be.

Gamora’s hair falls into her face in a wild mess of curls, and Peter blinks dazedly up at the ceiling for an extended few seconds as he tries to figure out what the hell just happened.

“Peter.”

Ah, and there’s Gamora’s “I’m really not fucking amused” tone. Peter knows it well.

“Okay, so, _slight_ miscalculation. My bad.”

Gamora lifts her head to look at him from where she’s partially sprawled over his chest, partially laid out on the steel deck, and it’s— okay, it’s actually hilarious that she’s there looking like _that_ and they just fell off of the bed doing that stupid fucking position (emphasis on “fucking”), and—

No, really, it’s funny.

The fact that Peter is currently trying to hold in his unruly guffaws apparently doesn’t do much for Gamora’s mood, because she pushes herself up on her elbows to glare down at him.

“That was a _terrible_ idea.”

“Yeah, I mean, not my best,” Peter says around another snort of laughter. “But trying new things isn’t the worst way to end up on my ass.”

“If you wanted to get thrown onto the floor, I could have arranged that without falling with you.”

“Mm, you know, you’ve got the whole ‘tossing me around’ thing covered with training already, so I’m gonna pass.” Peter lets his arms unwind from around her, reaching out to push her messy hair away from her face. They’re obviously still naked (which explains why the floor feels so damn cold), and despite the ridiculous tumble off of the bed, he’s kind of a little amazed by how _good_ Gamora looks like this.

“… Peter.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re staring at me.” Gamora levels him with a flat look, but she doesn’t seem inclined to pull away from the attention as he combs fingers through her hair.

“What, am I not allowed to look at you?” Peter grins as he leans in, brushing his lips against her cheek, over her jaw, still trying to keep himself from basically _giggling._ “I’ve got,” another kiss, “the most gorgeous woman in the galaxy,” another against her throat, then her shoulder, “layin’ on top of me,” a fourth, a fifth, “and I’m not supposed to look at her?”

That layer of displeasure seems to melt away with every kiss Peter peppers over her skin, and instead, Gamora just _sighs_ at him.

“Flattery is not going to make me forgive you for dragging me off of the bed,” she informs him blandly.

“Oh, yeah? Then what’s gonna help my case?”

Gamora pushes herself up a little higher to get a look at his face, and something curls on her lips that Peter might almost call mischievous.

“I have a few ideas.”


End file.
